Best Assets
by KillerElephants
Summary: Edited re-post. AU: As their time in the Fairytale Land increases, and Regina's outfits grow more and more elaborate each day, Emma finally points out the twin elephants in the room (oh god, that's so cheesy, I'm sorry). Swan Queen, Regina Mills, Emma Swan.


A/N: Silly stuff? (This fic makes me a strange kind of uncomfortable, but eh). Do you ever come across random bits of fanart, or a fic, or a fanvid or something that just pushes your spirits up with inspiration? Yeah, that's where I am right now (I'm getting that 'Season One' feeling all over again). I'm gonna try and get a few fics edited and up tonight, bear with me…

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"Woah, boobs!"

With an almost indignant expression, Regina glanced around the room to find Emma, in the riding wear she deemed appropriate for everyday use, lounging on her back over their shared, four-poster bed. Her head was hanging slightly over the edge of the mattress, with blonde curls almost scraping the floor, and her forehead was beginning to tinge pink.

"Excuse me?" she asked, closing the door behind her. She stepped further into the room, while Emma rolled herself onto her stomach and shuffled across the bed to rest in a more comfortable position.

"I said, _boobs_," Emma practically cried, nodding her head towards the breasts in question, her eyes having yet to find Regina's face.

"Really, dear," Regina's tone was low, but a smirk twitched at her lips, "your literacy skills astound me."

Green eyes rolled in response, and Emma asked, finally able to lift her gaze, "Are all your _Queeny_ outfits so…revealing?"

Regina's lips tilted into a full smirk at her tone. "You almost sound jealous…"

Emma finally managed to control her wavering gaze, and her eyes held Regina's with accusatory and altogether misplaced denial. "I am not," she frowned. "I just mean…I mean, _shit_, look at them!" A hand was raised to gesture to Regina's chest.

Raising an eyebrow, Regina glanced down at her cleavage, and then back up to Emma, who was now pushing herself into a sitting position. "What's wrong with them?" she asked, a challenge to her tone.

"Oh, nothing," Emma drawled, "only you're a nipple away from public indecency."

Struggling to raise her eyes back to Regina's, she shook her head and stated, "Your outfits were never this revealing in Storybrooke…" Her tone sounded almost accusatory, as though Regina might have worn the high-collared navy dress if only for her perfectly held breasts to hypnotise her into full submission.

"It would hardly have been appropriate," Regina smirked, moving towards the bed. "And must I remind you _again_ that we are in an entirely different world now?"

Frowning, Emma huffed a sigh and held the firmly supported breasts with a glare whilst folding her legs beneath her. "Whatever, if that's how you _wield your power_, good for you…"

Regina struggled to tame her smirk at the sight of Emma's tight frown, and she strode forward to take a seat on the edge of the bed, her hand resting possessively on Emma's thigh. "Trust me, dear, I don't need breasts to rule a Kingdom," she stated, watching as a disdainful expression clouded the face of the woman beside her as traitorous green eyes fell yet again to her cleavage.

"I'm sure," Emma muttered dryly, shifting slightly in discomfort. She was not used to this feeling surging up inside of her chest - what was its name, again? - but it did not sit well with her at all.

With a sigh, wondering when she had become so soft, Regina squeezed the warm thigh beneath her hand and waited until Emma's eyes found her own dark gaze, before stating, "If my _feminine charms_ make the signing of a contract, or the acquiescence of a foe," Emma's brow quirked at her words, "all the quicker attained, then let them have their fleeting moment of pleasure."

Her hand slid from Emma's thigh to find her hand, and Regina wasted no time in pulling her closer to her so as to press Emma's heated palm against one breast, fingers instinctively cupping the tender mound.

"Because no one but you gets to do _this_." Her voice was low now, the added husk not entirely down to just wanting to deflect Emma's apparent stumble into jealousy. "Only you get to touch me like this."

Emma swallowed around an almost painfully dry throat, and she managed to rasp out a quiet, "You aren't trying to win this with your boobs, are you?" Though she was having a hard time remembering exactly what 'this' was that Regina was so obviously winning.

"It's working," Regina smirked.

Emma tried to reply, but the intake of a long breath suddenly had the breast beneath her palm raising to snuggle further into her hold, her fingers sliding beneath the material of the elaborate gown Regina insisted on wearing. It took all of the restraint Emma still had not to rip the heavy material from Regina's chest right then and there. She had tried that before - Regina had been less than pleased. But the make-up sex had been earth shattering, after the cold-shoulder treatment was relented.

"I just," she tried, eyes forced back up to Regina's, hoping to regain some of her earlier argument - though she did not remove her palm. "I don't like the thought of people - fairytale characters or not - seeing this much of you."

Regina smiled humorously at her words, and stated, "I never had you down as an appreciator of modesty, dear."

"Modesty?" Emma cried. "Jesus, Regina, at least the pencil skirts back in Storybrooke covered your ass. But _this_?" Her eyes fell back to the palm that gave a slight squeeze of a breast. "Modesty is one thing, but this is…" She sighed a little, not liking how whiny-girlfriend she sounded, and lifted her shoulders in a non-committal shrug.

It wasn't that she was ashamed of what Regina wore, but if she knew how the outfit made _her_ feel, she sure as hell knew what all of those other people – those _noble_men that Regina kept within her court – were thinking when they saw her. Emma had never thought herself the possessive type, having gone through her life with nothing much worth possessing, but now she had _Regina_.

As much as it unnerved her, she couldn't help but suddenly view Regina as some kind of diamond that had been thrust within her care. And not only a diamond – not just some shiny rock, some dead weight – but a living, breathing woman, with wants and urges and hopes and dreams, and whatever fancies Emma herself might not be able to satisfy. She hated herself for needing the reassurance, but she did.

"What does it matter?" Regina asked softly, perhaps recognising the expression upon Emma's face, or either guessing at her thoughts. "No one will come as close to this," she pressed Emma's hand further into her chest, until she almost thought she was cupping her very heart, "as you are now." Emma swallowed again and nodded, eyes softening as they swam amongst the dark pools of the brunette's.

"Now," Regina smiled, shifting on the bed slightly, "I don't want to hear any more talk of this." She was only all too aware of Emma's notorious ability to question her own self-worth. "I am _your_ Queen." It almost sounded like a vow, solidifying in the air around them like a thick chain that hung, most welcome, from each of their chests.

Fighting a blush, Emma struggled to regain her composure and shrugged. She caught Regina's expression, her own one of apology, but the warm look on the face before her had it quickly melting away.

"Yeah," she smiled, regaining her confidence, "and these are _mine_." She gave a sudden squeeze of the breast beneath her palm, eliciting a sharp breath from Regina. "I don't want just anybody drooling all over them."

At one time in her life, she might have blushed at Emma's words, and at another slapped that smug look of possession from her face, but now Regina could not ignore the leap her heart. It was more than a little boost to her ego, if nothing else…

"Neither would I, _Sheriff_," the title always had sounded more like a pet name, and even now Emma could only delight in hearing Regina's husky voice contort around it, "there's only one set of lips I'm comfortable with having…_drool_ all over me."

"Oh…was that an invitation?"

Emma raised a brow in mock curiosity, but she was already pushing herself onto her knees, an arm wrapped around Regina in order to move her further onto the bed. Before Regina had the chance to reply, blonde locks were framing her vision, soon eclipsed as a soft mouth covered her own.

In the back of her mind, Emma's insecurities were once again subdued, forgotten, though she was not wholly against their return if fighting them off meant Regina allowing her to ruin the lacing of her corseted dresses once more…

She could definitely get used to this life, with its peculiar rules and even stranger inhabitants; as long as she had her Evil Queen (and her Evil Cleavage) to guide her through the mess that had been Storybrooke's return to the fairytale land.


End file.
